The Chronicles Of The Curtis Brothers
by PadaleckiGrease
Summary: In this alternate universe set in present day, Darry Curtis helps his little brothers tackle their teenage years – high school, bullying, crushes, and everything in between. Without the help of his parents, Darry sure has his work cut out for him, but with a gentle heart and a firm hand, he knows he’ll manage. WARNING: Parental Spanking Of Minors Is Included In Many Chapters!
1. Prologue

**_Extended Summary;_**

 ** _In this alternate universe set in present day, Darry Curtis helps his little brothers tackle their teenage years – high school, bullying, crushes, and everything in between. Without the help of his parents, Darry sure has his work cut out for him, but with a gentle heart and a firm hand, he knows he'll manage. Although, he's not sure how much hair he'll have by the time he's done. No matter how much Sodapop and Ponyboy stress him out, he still has no regrets and there is nothing about his life he would change._**

 ** _In the start of this story, Darry is 21, Sodapop is 15, and Ponyboy is 13._**

 ** _There WILL be parental spanking of minors in this story, so if you don't like, don't read!_**

* * *

Darry had never been as lost as he was when he got the call that his parents were dead. Barely eighteen, fresh out of high school, he had to call his ten and twelve-year-old brothers into the living room to tell them that their parents weren't coming back.

No matter how hard he tried, he would never forget the looks on their faces – the way Pony crumpled in his arms or the way Soda just stood there, shaking his head in denial even as his eyes filled with tears.

Somehow, the parent in him came out the second he got that call, and he knew he didn't have a choice but to step up. For three hours, he sat with his baby brothers on the floor of their living room and held them while they cried. For the duration of that time, he never shed a tear.

At the time, the only thing Darry _could_ do was stay strong for them, so he did. He got them to sleep in his bed at nearly two in the morning and joined them in slumber, still without tears.

He didn't let himself break down until the next morning when Ponyboy and Sodapop were still asleep. He cried over his parents, his future, and most importantly, his brothers' future. He was lost – as lost as he'd ever been, and overall, he was scared shitless.

They were supposed to have been home right around the time the house phone rang. The pair had been in Florida for their anniversary, and Darry was watching the boys for the weekend. He didn't mind; the three of them got along just fine and he really wanted to spend some time with them before he left for school in the fall.

Their mother and father had been on their way home from the airport. Darryl Sr. was driving and somehow, he ran a red light. It was dark and it was late, and it could only be assumed that he simply was not paying attention. Either way, his carelessness resulted in them smacking into the side of an oncoming semi-truck.

According to the first responders, it killed both of them instantly.

The following couple of days were overwhelming for the three brothers, to say the absolute least. Darry was very proud of Pony and Soda for keeping it together as well as they did throughout all of the visitors and the funeral, but it was still very hard and there were a lot of tears.

Reading their will was the last step of having to deal with their deaths amongst other people, and it was the best part of that hell week because it solved just about everything he'd spent every waking moment since he'd got the news worrying himself to death over.

Their parents, being the well-planned people that they were, had already made sure that Darry would receive full custody of Ponyboy and Sodapop if something were to happen to them, despite the fact that he'd only been eighteen for a little under three months. The only other living family they had was their paternal grandfather, a mean drunk who beat their father senseless until he was nineteen and was able to move out. Darry would have disappeared to Canada with his brothers before he let that man have them.

They had also left him the house and made him the sole beneficiary of their life insurance policies. Between the both of them, it left him with a sum of nearly 90,000 dollars. That was the best news of the week because without a job, he was a little lost as to how he was going to provide until he could find one. That pretty much solved that issue.

Admittedly, he blew through about ten grand of that within two weeks because, well, he didn't have a car and that was kind of a necessity when taking care of two teenage boys. Their parent's car was totaled beyond repair, which left them with their father's pickup truck, which wasn't much of a family vehicle. So, Darry paid a couple months up on a new Trailblazer to get them around. It was nice sized and the boys liked it, so he figured it would work for the time being.

Darry spent the rest of that money spoiling the hell out of his little brothers for a little while to help get them in better spirits. It wasn't the best method to help them cope but hell, taking them to Target and telling them they could have whatever they wanted sure as hell made their faces light up for the first time in days. Besides, he seriously doubted that his parents would have been against him making the boys happy with some of that money, anyway.

Even after shopping for his little brothers, he still had over eighty grand to put up. That was plenty for them to live off of, especially since their father's place of employment had offered him a position. It was a factory job with a good starting pay and good benefits, and Darry knew there was no way he would have snagged that type of job with no experience if his father hadn't worked there for twenty years. His boss didn't have any trouble understanding how Darry would struggle in his new role; He figured the least he could do was offer the kid what was once his father's job.

Financially, things were okay, but that didn't mean Darry still wasn't scared shitless. He knew that there would be a lot more to taking care of two kids than just financially supporting them, and he wasn't sure just how well he'd be able to raise them on his own.

He'd be responsible for so much; Getting both of them to and from school, making sure they actually _do_ their homework, sleep schedules, eating, and everything else required just to keep them alive. Plus, he had rules to enforce and if those rules were broken then that meant he had to dole out punishments and at the time, he was a thousand percent certain that he could _not_ do that.

Of course, he'd spent enough time babysitting that he'd had to dish out a few swats every now and then, but that was different than actual punishments. He really didn't think he had the willpower to turn Sodapop or Ponyboy over his knee the way his father had. Hell, he didn't even know if they would let him.

And at first, it wasn't an issue; the boys were still too sad to get into trouble, but that bliss only lasted three weeks. After that, the smart mouths and bratty behavior returned times ten. That's when Darry started taking away some of those nice things he'd gotten them (the looks on their faces when they realized he hid the PlayStation controllers would forever be amusing) but again, that was only temporary and they went back to misbehaving after about a week.

Darry wasn't stupid. He knew that they were acting out on purpose to test boundaries and try and get the reaction that they were accustomed to. Before their parents died, they had structure and they knew boundaries. If they acted up, then they knew to expect consequences and they knew what those consequences would be, but their father was no longer around to dish them out.

They weren't even teenagers yet. As young as they still were, Darry knew that they _needed_ that structure and that they felt a little lost without it. He also knew that they were only going to get worse if he didn't do something about it soon.

He felt as if it was unfair to just spank one of them out of the blue when they misbehaved, without warning at least. So, one morning, about a month after the death of their parents, he sat them down in the living room so they could have that talk.

Darry explained to his little brothers that just because Mom and Dad were gone didn't mean that they could do whatever they pleased, and he apologized for letting it slide for as long as he did (even though they were too young to understand why he felt the need to apologize). He let them know that they would be punished from then on out when they acted up and that he would be doing it for the exact reasons that their father always had: because he loved them, and it was for their own good.

The conversation went over better than Darry had expected it to, really. Ponyboy and Sodapop both listened without argument, and muttered out their assent when their big brother was done, albeit unhappily. They both started crying once it was settled – first Pony and then Soda, so they shared his lap and bawled into his chest for a while.

It was one of those moments that Darry had to hide a stray tear or two by burying his face into one of his brother's hair. It had only been a month, and he missed them like hell, too, but he still continued to be strong for them. That's what they needed.

Once they'd calmed down, they apologized for being such brats and that was pretty much the end of it. Their reign of terror ended, and they went back to behaving the way they had before that dreadful night. Darry was relieved, to say the least.

That didn't mean he was looking forward to the first time he had to actually spank them, (which turned out to be four days later when they got into a fist fight and Darry had to take a wooden spoon to both of their behinds), but he still knew it was for their own good. As much as they hated it, they needed someone to keep them in line, and he was the one who was going to have to do it.

Hell, it's not like he had much of a choice.

* * *

 **Author's note;**

 **Another Outsiders spanking story!**

 **I always want to read about the Curtis brother's in present day (2017) with more normal issues than worrying about Greaser's and Soc's, so I figured I'd write one myself!**

 **This is an AU, so the characters are OOC, but the brothers still have a relationship that I absolutely adore and I hope that my readers will as well.**

 **This is only a prologue, and you may have to wait a week or two for the first chapter to be up since I'm still working on a different story, but I'll try to get it up as quickly as possible!**


	2. Chapter 1

Three years late, Darry had it down pat.

Well, not completely, of course, but things were running a lot smoother than they were at first, that was for sure. The first few months of Darry _actually_ being in charge were rough, but the boys fell into their daily lives again and they adjusted accordingly to new routines. Darry was proud of them – he really hadn't expected it to be so easy.

It took Darry a month or so to be able to handle it, but he took his parents' room so that Ponyboy and Sodapop didn't have to share one anymore. It wasn't an easy transition for him, but he'd heard enough of his brothers' fighting all day. They needed their own space. Besides, it wasn't like he could leave their parents' bedroom empty forever, and he definitely couldn't put Pony or Soda in there. They definitely wouldn't be able to handle it.

Over three years, both boys entered their teenage years but only Sodapop was much different. Ponyboy was thirteen and still the same quiet, resigned, well-behaved boy he was before their parents died. He did as he was told for the most part and ninety percent of the time he was disobedient it was under someone else's influence. He had a bad habit of not saying 'no' when he should and Darry was doing his best to curb it while he was still young, but since it was usually Sodapop who got him into shit and Pony always wants to look good in his brother's eyes, Darry was having a hard time.

Just entering the early stages of puberty, Ponyboy was still a fairly small kid who was a grade level ahead of where he was supposed to be. Needless to say, he had trouble fitting in. He tended to do whatever he had to make friends, no matter the consequences. Of course, that didn't mean that the constant flow of tears when he actually had to face those consequences were any less genuine, but Darry was having trouble getting him to really learn.

Aside from that, Ponyboy was probably the best behaved thirteen-year-old boy in town. The kid was book smart as hell and he brought home straight A's almost every quarter, even though he skipped a grade. He rarely got into trouble at school, and if he did it was usually never enough to earn him more than a detention. He was usually respectful at home, and the only time he got into real trouble was when he and Soda fought.

Darry thanked his lucky stars every day that _one_ of them was well behaved because Sodapop, on the other hand, had been hellish since he hit thirteen.

At fifteen, he wasn't quite _terrible_ , no, but that probably had a lot to do with the fact that Darry got nothing done but whooping his ass. He was mouthy, getting him to do his homework was a chore within itself, and he broke the rules regarding his PlayStation, TV, and curfew so much that he spent more time grounded than not.

That isn't to say that Darry loved Sodapop any less than Ponyboy because that wasn't even close to true. He loved both of his little brothers with his whole being, as if they were his own sons, and there was nothing that he wouldn't do for either of them, but Sodapop had a tendency of making him crazy. He loved him just as much as he loved Ponyboy; He just wished he could get the sweet kid that Sodapop was before he hit puberty back.

Well, that wasn't quite right: that kid never left. Sweet, happy Sodapop made his appearances every now and then, mainly when he was half asleep or he had just been spanked, but he wasn't like he used to be. Darry missed that.

No matter what happened though, neither of his boys was bad. He'd swear by it. They were both good kids, they just had their moments.

When Darry walked through the front door after to work and seen their fifty-inch flat screen flat on the floor, he was reminded of that.

"It was an accident!" Ponyboy and Sodapop shouted simultaneously, both of them looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

They were standing on opposite sides of the room – Sodapop right next to the obviously broken TV and Ponyboy right behind the couch. Darry didn't know exactly what happened, but he could tell it hadn't been long since it did.

He let out a deep sigh, dropping his lunch bag down beside the door. He was tired, hot, and sweaty and he absolutely _hated_ when the boys started in on him as soon as he got home. They were usually nice enough to keep whatever they needed from him to themselves until after he showered, but he could tell they must have realized that wasn't much of an option.

"What happened?" he asked wearily as he lowered himself onto the love seat to take his boots off, not bothering to look at either of his brothers. He was upset, but he didn't have the energy to genuinely act like it at the time.

Darry liked his job; He liked his co-workers and his bosses and the pay was really good, especially when he had over time. He just hated that the warehouse wasn't air conditioned. During the worst of the hot Oklahoma summers, Darry was usually ready to pass out by the time his day was over. He most definitely wasn't in the mood to deal with two bratty boys.

To be fair, the first thing they'd said was that it was an accident, so he didn't have much of a choice but to hear them out. Although, he was pretty damn sure that whatever they were doing that caused it _had_ to have been something they for damn sure were not supposed to be doing.

"Uh…" Ponyboy started quietly, his eyes darting to his partner in crime before shooting back to Darry, "It fell?"

Darry had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath to ensure he didn't explode on the younger of his two brothers, making sure he was calm again before reopening them.

" _Obviously,_ Ponyboy," he stated, trying his best not to be sarcastic, "Tell me _how_ it fell."

"Oh…" he said quietly, trailing off and looking towards Soda for help.

"We were messin' around," Sodapop offered, sounding a lot more confident than his younger brother, "And we kinda bumped into the TV stand and it fell?"

Darry was slightly annoyed that all of the replies he was getting were phrased as questions and not answers, but the boys had a tendency of doing that so it seemed less incriminating.

"You were messing around?" Darry asked dryly, eyes squinting in accusation, "Does that mean you were fighting?"

"No!" He was rewarded with another quick, simultaneous reply. Neither of his boys wanted the kind of whooping that resulted from them getting into _another_ fist fight, hence the almost frantic reply.

"So, what?" Darry asked dryly, crossing his arms over his chest as he perched on the edge of his seat, "You were just rough housing?"

When they both nodded, Darry realized why they'd been so hesitant on giving him a direct answer, "In the living room?" he inquired with raised eyebrows.

Being two teenage boys, Darry knew that his little brothers would get rowdy and wrestle. He let them, too, because he knew it was part of growing up. Of course, he regretted the hell out of that decision every time the rough housing turned into an actual fight, but that was rare, so he usually let them be.

The one part of that he didn't condone, though, was rough housing in the living room. There was so much stuff in there, expensive stuff at that, which could easily end up broken if they bumped into it. They never really wanted to listen to him, because _we're being careful, Dar, chill out._ Unfortunately, this situation was proof that he was, indeed, right and now they were out of a six hundred dollar TV that he was going to have to take money out of savings to replace it. It's not like the money wasn't there, but that doesn't mean Darry wants to use it to replace a TV that was in perfectly good condition.

The 'not in the living room' rule had stood since before their parents died, so it wasn't like Pony and Soda could act like they didn't know about it. Darry was mildly disappointed and annoyed with their transgression, but not actually mad. He couldn't punish them for the TV being broken – no matter how upsetting it was, he knew it was an accident – but he had to deal with the rule breaking. The boys had both been fairly well behaved throughout the week, so he knew it wouldn't be long before something came up.

"It was my fault!" Sodapop blurted as Darry stood up, moving so he was standing by Ponyboy, "We were just messin' around and I pushed him towards the stand and he-"

Darry held a hand up to stop him, refraining from rolling his eyes. They fought like cats and dogs, but the minute they were in trouble Sodapop would say whatever he needed to for Ponyboy to be in less trouble.

He was glad Sodapop was so protective of him; he knew that it would come in handy when Ponyboy started high school in the fall, but it made it hard when it came to punishing them and he truly couldn't tell which one of them had misbehaved because one of them was telling a _really_ convincing lie. It helped that he had learned that the one lying to protect his brother tended to be Sodapop, but Ponyboy got protective and tried to take the blame sometimes, too.

"You aren't in trouble for the TV being broke," he explained as he walked to where both of them were standing, "That was an accident. You're in trouble for messin' around in here instead of any other room in this house where you're allowed to. Both of you know better."

"It was still my fault," Sodapop said quietly, resigned, "I started it."

"Sodapop…" Darry warned quietly, giving him a look that clearly showed him that his best bet was to hush. He appreciated Sodapop wanting to take the fall, but there was a time a place for everything and Ponyboy knew just as well as Sodapop did that they weren't supposed to rough house in the living room.

He sighed, resigned. "Fine," he grumbled, lowering his head and accepting defeat.

Darry did roll his eyes this time, even as he gently ushered both of the boys towards the stairs, "Upstairs and in your rooms. I'll call you down when I want you."

He ignored the sigh of annoyance from Sodapop and the pout from Ponyboy as they walked past him and headed upstairs. He waited until they were both out of his sight and he heard their doors close before he turned around to examine the damage.

Once he stood the TV back up, it was clear that it was most definitely fucked. The screen was nearly shattered and even though he could still hear SpongeBob playing, he could no longer see it. It could probably be fixed at a tech shop, but it would end up costing more than it was worth.

Darry wanted nothing more than to sit on the couch, kick his feet up and watch whatever dumb show his brothers turned on whilst nursing a beer, but considering there currently wasn't a TV in the living room, that wouldn't be an option.

They would have to go to Target before or after dinner to pick up another one, much to Darry's dismay. The boys had their own TV's in their rooms to keep them entertained, but Darry relied solely on the one in the living room and he for damn sure wasn't going to sit and stare at a wall all night. Mainly because he would end up falling asleep at six in the afternoon and then end up staying up all night.

He cleaned up the shards of glass that had ended up on the floor before heading upstairs himself, figuring everything else could wait. He hadn't even had the chance to even cool off yet and he could literally smell himself – he wasn't doing anything until he showered.

Ponyboy's door was open as he walked past, so he poked his head in to check on him and make sure he hadn't stuck himself in time out (he had a bad habit of punishing himself before Darry got the chance to).

Darry was pleased to see that he hadn't, but was instead laid out across the bed on his stomach, hugging a pillow to his face and watching TV. Darry was also glad to see that his baby brother didn't seem to be working himself up too much (something he also tended to do), although he was still pouting profusely.

Ponyboy lifted his head when he saw Darry in the door way, eyeing him warily, " _Already?_ " he whined, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

Darry bit back a smile as he shook his head no, leaning against the doorframe. "No, Pony. I'm just checking on you."

"Oh," Ponyboy sighed out, relaxing back into the bed, "After you get out the shower?"

"After I get out the shower," Darry confirmed with a short nod, "Stay put until then, okay?"

"Okay," Ponyboy agreed quietly, laying his head back down on his pillow. He let out a sigh and his pout returned as he went back to watching his show.

Darry chuckled quietly at his brother's dramatics as he stepped out and pulled the door up behind him. The brat was cute when he was pouting, as much as it annoyed Darry that he still did it so much. He probably didn't know he was doing it at times, but there were also a lot of times he used it to his advantage. He knew it broke Darry's heart when he pouted and gave him his puppy dog eyes and he knew just how and when to use it to try and get out of a spanking.

Admittedly, Darry had gotten pretty good at ignoring the pleading looks from both of his brothers, but he wasn't as good as their Dad was. There were times he let them get away with things that he shouldn't just because they knew how to tug at his heart strings, but he was much better at ignoring their woebegone looks than he was in the beginning.

He stopped in front of Sodapop's door, contemplating whether or not he should check on him, too. He decided not to after a couple of moments, continuing down the hallway. Sodapop didn't work himself up like Ponyboy did, and he was probably just pouting at his TV like his brother was. Besides, initiating a conversation with him could easily end with him getting popped for being rude and Darry really didn't feel like dealing with it before he had to.

He grabbed a change of clothes and a towel from his room before popping into the bathroom. Showering was his favorite part of the day (besides going to bed) during the week, and he wasn't pleased about it being delayed. He made quick of work of turning the water on and adjusting it to the right temperature before stripping and stepping in. The water felt cool on his skin and he finally relaxed under the spray, letting the warm water wash the sweat from his skin.

Darry stood there in a calming bliss for a few minutes before his minded drifted back to his little brothers and their impending doom. He really didn't feel like spanking them, but they broke a well-known rule which resulted in the TV getting broke. Plus, they easily could have hurt themselves on anything else in there, which was worse. They had the safety talks way too many times, too.

He could always just ground them, but that was harder for all of them. Sodapop was already grounded and had been since the beginning of summer break, and when he and Ponyboy had nothing to do they tended to bicker to pass the time. When they were grounded, it tended to be a punishment for Darry, too, especially if it was both of them at the same time. The only reason Sodapop had been grounded for so long was because he didn't know how to be respectful for more than an hour.

Both Ponyboy and Sodapop had admitted on more than one occasion that they would almost always rather be spanked than grounded, no matter how much they hated it. Grounding was prolonged and an annoyance; the boys were bored and the only thing they were allowed to do was watch what was on TV. No phones, no laptops, no game systems, no friends – nothing. Spankings usually hurt pretty bad while they happened, but once it was over, all was forgiven and then they could go play their PlayStations, even if it was while sitting on a sore butt.

 _Right. So, spanking it is, then,_ Darry thought to his self as he reached for the shampoo, adjusting the water so it was a little bit hotter. It's not like he needed to give himself a pep talk on how to give spankings – he'd given plenty of those over the last three years. The question was just what kind of spanking would he be giving.

It wasn't that bad, what the boys had done. Even though it was a direct result of their actions, they hadn't actually meant to break the TV. He wouldn't spank them for what was blatantly an accident, but he was definitely withholding their allowances until half of the price of the TV was paid back. They wouldn't be happy about it, but they were lucky he wasn't making them pay it all off.

The spanking itself wouldn't be severe – it didn't need to be. All they needed was a bit of a detour for next time they decided to start fooling around where they weren't supposed to be, so the wooden spoon would suffice. It was the lightest implement they had, but it packed a good sting. It would hurt plenty while he used it, but their soreness would be dulled by the end of the day.

Darry finished his shower fairly quickly. He grabbed his towel off the towel rack and wrapped it around his waist before stepping out. He felt less groggy and he would have more patience with Soda and Pony now that he'd had a couple of minutes to his self. It was never a good idea to punish one of his little brothers when he was already in a bad mood because it was easy to snap at them if they got difficult. The ability to be patient, especially if they started fighting him, was crucial.

Ponyboy would behave; He almost always did unless he was purposely trying to get a reaction out of Darry. Sodapop, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

Darry made quick work of getting dried off and dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. It was much more comfortable than his work uniform, that was for sure. He gathered up all of his dirty clothes and his towel after he was dressed before opening the bathroom door. He stepped out into the hallway and the air felt cool against his skin compared to the steamy bathroom. He was grateful that the boys always knew to have the air conditioning kicked on when Darry got off during the summer, even if they didn't think the house was hot. The power bill wasn't always pretty, but it was worth it after a day of hell at his job.

Darry disposed of his dirty clothes and his towel in the hamper in his room before he headed back down the hallway, preparing himself for whatever was to come. He said a silent prayer that both of his little brothers would cooperate, but that was a rare feat when he had to punish them both for the same thing.

He approached Ponyboy's door and seen that it was still open and that his youngest brother hadn't moved from his spot. The pout was still prominently placed on his lips and the look he gave Darry when he appeared in his door way strongly resembled a kicked puppy.

Darry just managed to stop himself from smiling fondly, knowing that giving Pony any type of sign that his look was helping or earning him comfort would only encourage him. He did his best not to comfort the boys while they were being punished unless he thought it was truly necessary because the second he did they started taking his kindness for weakness and trying to weasel their way out of their spanking.

"C'mon," he directed gently, nodding towards the stairs.

Ponyboy was moving almost instantly, his bottom lip slipping under his front teeth as he scurried past his big brother to head down the stairs. Darry let him get a few steps ahead before he followed, figuring he would leave Soda be until it was his turn. Ponyboy always got spanked first when they were both in trouble because he worried himself to death if he had to wait. Sodapop wasn't so anxious, so he didn't have that problem and he never seemed to mind about going last.

When Darry reached the bottom of the stairs, Pony was already on the couch with his hands on his lap. You could practically smell the anxiety radiating off the kid, although that was fairly normal for the boy whether he was in trouble or not. It was worse when he was, though, and it was harder for him to sit still when he got like that.

Perching on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. There wasn't much to discuss this time, but he always liked to talk to them before they went over his knee. It was better that everything was clear and they didn't have to make any assumptions about how and why they were being punished.

"I'm sorry we were rough housing in the living room when we wasn't supposed to be."

Darry wasn't surprised about the apology that spilled from his little brother's lips before he got to say a word and he had no doubt that it was sincere. Ponyboy had just had about fifteen minutes to himself to think and it never really took any longer than that for the kid to decide he was sorry.

"Did Sodapop start it?" he asked, not yet acknowledging the apology, "Or were you both just messin' around?"

Darry could tell by the pause before his reply what the answer was, but he knew Ponyboy well enough to know he'd lie, anyway, "We were both just messin' around and then we got too close to the TV."

"He isn't going to be in any more trouble if you just tell me, Ponyboy," Darry said after he sighed, keeping his voice level, "I just want to know; It's not like it was an actual fight. Although, we can easily upgrade from the spoon to the brush if you'd rather keep lying to me."

The face he made at that strongly resembled the one he used to make whenever their parents fed him peas and he quickly shook his head, "No, sir," he mumbled, picking at a string coming out of the couch cushion, "I just…He hit me with a pillow and I hit him back and it just escalated, but it wasn't his fault! I knew that we weren't supposed to be doing it, too."

Ponyboy's never ending defense of his brother was going to land him in some serious trouble one day, but Darry figured now wasn't the best time to bring that up.

"Yes, you did," Darry confirmed with a curt nod, leaning back so he was in a sitting position again, "And that's why you're getting spanked. That TV was expensive, Ponyboy, and so are a lot of other things in here that you two could have broken. Plus, either one of you could have ended up hurting yourselves and I can promise you that I'd be a lot more upset right now if that had happened, instead."

"I know," Ponyboy whined tearfully, "We didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Darry didn't necessarily like that Ponyboy was so sensitive and eager to please, but it made it easier when it came to scolding him and making sure he was repentant. It was definitely a quality he sometimes wished their other brother had.

"I know you're sorry," Darry stated as he stood up from where he was sitting across from Ponyboy, "And I'm glad to hear it, but sorry isn't going to fix the TV, now is it?"

"No," The quiet reply came a few moments later along with watery eyes. Darry was hardly fazed – it wasn't rare for Ponyboy's tears to start before his spanking did, even one as mild as this one. Darry was almost always gentle with him, but he still didn't like to be scolded and he wasn't going to hide it.

"No," Darry repeated firmly in confirmation as he reached down and grabbed his brother's arm, gently pulling him up from the couch. He took Pony's place in the middle of the couch and then tapped his leg, "Down."

He didn't have to elaborate – Ponyboy knew the drill. With a sniffle, Ponyboy went to unbutton his jeans, his lip sliding back behind his teeth. It was incredibly rare that Darry ever spanked the boys over their jeans. Unless he was using his belt, they would barely feel anything. It would work with Ponyboy sometimes if he just needed a quick reminder, but that was mainly just because it hurt his feelings. It wasn't so easy with Sodapop.

Once he'd got his pants around his knees, he placed himself over Darry's knees without prompting. Ponyboy knew that it was always better to behave when he was always in trouble. He'd learned from his brother that not doing so was only going to make it worse.

Darry let him adjust himself so he was comfortable before wrapping an arm around his waist, reining him in. Ponyboy may have him been well behaved during a spanking, but he squirmed. A lot.

Ponyboy was already waiting expectantly, so Darry didn't give any warning before he started swatting. He fell into a rhythm, sending sharp swats to every part of his little brother's butt. It wasn't long before the squirming started, but Darry just tightened his grip around his waist and continued. Ponyboy wasn't even close to being strong enough for it to be a hardship for Darry to keep him still. Besides, he wasn't _actually_ trying to get out of the way, it just seemed like more of a natural reaction. The kid could barely sit still when he wasn't being spanked; Darry could hardly expect him to do so when he was. As long as he wasn't actively trying to get out of the line of fire, Darry usually let him be.

Pony was sniffling profusely by the time Darry finished warming him up with his hand, his head buried in the couch cushion. Darry knew it hadn't hurt that bad, but it didn't take much with Ponyboy.

"Alright," Darry said, sending one last light swat to Pony's bottom before helping him stand up, "Get the spoon."

Ponyboy never really fought him when he sent him for an implement, but that's when his tears usually really started. He whined miserably and stepped out of his jeans, which had already made it to his ankles before he padded over to where the implements were.

The drawer where they were kept held a range of different things: the wooden spoon, the hairbrush, the ping pong paddle-shaped paddle, the _real_ paddle, a heavy, worn belt, and the strap. There was a cane, too, but Darry had only felt it once in his life and it was enough for him to be sure that he would _never_ have the heart to use it on either one of his boys.

The worst of those hardly ever got used. The wooden spoon, the hairbrush, and the smaller paddle got put to use the most and if need be, Darry would whoop the boys with his own belt instead of the one kept in the drawer. It wasn't as harsh, but it still got the job done fine.

Ponyboy had never felt the heavier belt or the strap, and he'd only received the bigger paddle twice. As stated before, it didn't take much with him. Just the threat of having the strap used on him would bring him to tears.

Sodapop, on the other hand, had been spanked with all of them at least once. The fuss he kicked up when he'd been strapped was fairly heartbreaking, and although he could be and usually was quite the brat, he had yet to push Darry far enough to use it again.

Ponyboy shoved the wooden spoon towards Darry with a scowl, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks. His eyes were trained on the floor by Darry's feet, and he was still chewing on his bottom lip. He did that a lot when he was nervous.

Darry took the spoon out of his hand and then patted his lap, gesturing for Pony to take his former position. He shot him the most pitiful look he could muster, but he lied over his lap without any actual complaint.

Pulling Ponyboy against him again, Darry tapped the spoon on his brother's behind, "Ready?"

The kid let out a shaky sigh, folding his arms in front of him and burying his face in them. He didn't reply at first, but after a few firmer pats, he nodded quickly.

It was always better not to drag it out, so Darry didn't waste any time bringing the spoon down hard on the right side of Ponyboy's bottom. Ignoring the way his little brother tensed and squealed, Darry repeated this action on the left side and then continued to go back and forth methodically. Sometimes, he there was no pattern and he'd just land rapid fire swats wherever he wanted to, but that was only if he wanted the punishments to be quicker. He wasn't in much of a rush this time and if Ponyboy couldn't predict where the next swat would land and how quickly it would land, it would only make him squirm more.

"Owww," Ponyboy whined after about half a minute, pushing himself up on his elbows, "Darry! I'm sorry!"

Darry rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatics, not pausing at all. He was sure it stung, but it didn't hurt that bad. Ponyboy usually didn't get spanked a whole lot, so he understood that meant he'd be more sensitive, but Darry also knew that his brother could be a drama queen.

Ponyboy flopped back down on to the couch cushion when he realized his brother wasn't going to slow down, and it wasn't long before he was properly crying. Darry never based the end of Ponyboy's spankings on his tears, considering how easily they came, but he knew that when genuine sobs started coming out of the boy it was probably time to start wrapping it up.

They weren't at that point yet, though, so Darry continued to build the sting in his brother's ass. The squirming reached a high point after another minute or so of continuous swats and Ponyboy finally made a move to block the barrage of spanks. Luckily, Darry knew his brother well enough to predict the exact moment his hand would come back to try and protect himself and he caught it before he could manage to actually cover himself.

He whined again when Darry used his free hand to pin it to his back, trying to tug it out of his brother's grasp and back in front of him. Darry squeezed his hand in response – not tight enough to hurt him, of course, but more of a silent warning that he needed to stop. He knew better than to throw his hands back, anyway.

As his big brother expected, Ponyboy settled almost immediately and instead used the restraint to his advantage, gripping the hand Darry had pressed into his for dear life. Darry wasn't dumb – he knew that Ponyboy put his hand back specifically so Darry would grab it and he'd have something to hold on to. He didn't necessarily mind, he just wished his kid would just ask instead of doing something he knew he wasn't supposed to do to get what he wanted.

He made a mental note to have a talk with him about that later on as he continued to spank, moving down to swat his upper thighs. Ponyboy head shot up and he screeched like he'd been shot. After just a few more spanks to the sensitive area, his head dropped again and he let out a long, high pitched whine that was immediately followed by a throaty sob.

Darry slowed down after this, glad to see that they were just about done. He always finished up with the thighs, knowing the kind of reaction it would get him. He knew from experience how much more a spanking could hurt when directed at such sensitive skin.

He landed a few more swats before pausing, resting the spoon on Ponyboy's burning skin, "Are we gonna need to have this talk again?"

"No!" he cried in between sobs, shaking his head frantically, "W-Won't happen again, Dar!"

"Better not," Darry replied gruffly, landing another swat on Pony's behind. It wasn't as hard as any of the others had been but you couldn't tell by the way he yelped, "I'm keeping both of your allowances until half of the price of the TV I'm gonna have to go buy is replaced and if you decide to complain about it, you'll end up _right_. _back. here._ Is that understood? _"_

The three emphasized words were accompanied by swats, causing Ponyboy to cry out again. Darry had drug the spanking out for a while, and the kid was reaching the end of tether despite it being a fairly mild punishment. The scolding wasn't helping, either.

"No, sir!" Ponyboy cried into the couch cushion, crossing and uncrossing his feet to help alleviate the sting.

Darry smiled slightly, but kept his voice stern as he spoke, "No? You don't understand?"

There was a slight, confused pause in the sobbing, "Wait, w-what?" Ponyboy asked softly, peeking over his shoulder.

Darry let out a soft laugh as he looked at the look of pure confusion on his brother's tear streaked face, "I told you that you're not getting your allowance for a while and I asked you if you understood," Darry explained, tapping the spoon lightly against Ponyboy's butt, "You said 'No, sir,'. So, does that mean we need to keep going because you don't understand?"

He was just teasing him, of course. He knew that Ponyboy was a little too busy crying and he'd just gotten confused, but he was still a big brother and he still liked to mess with the kid from time to time. Ponyboy, however, was a little too upset not to take it literally.

"No!" he cried immediately, "No, d-don't keep g-going! I understand!"

"Oh, calm down," Darry shushed him as he set the spoon down beside him, "I'm just messin' with you, bub. I think we can be done, now. You've learned your lesson, haven't you?"

"Yessir," he mumbled, sniffling pitifully, "I'm not gonna do it again."

Satisfied with this answer, he let go of his brother's hand and slowly reached under him to help him up off of his lap. Ponyboy pushed himself up onto his knees so he was sitting on the couch beside Darry, but it was only a split second before he leaned forward to lie against his chest.

Darry opened his arms and helped him get situated, almost on his lap but still technically sitting beside him. Burying his face into his brother's shirt, Pony gingerly wrapped his arms around his brother and pressed further against, allowing himself to cry into his chest.

Ponyboy never cared about modesty or feeling like a baby after he got spanked – he was going to want to be cuddled either way, and he was going to do it shamelessly.

Darry didn't mind. It was good for him to make sure the kid was alright before he sent him off on his own again. Ponyboy had a bad habit of trying to punish himself, even after Darry had already spanked him, so Darry had to make sure that his baby brother knew that he wasn't mad at him and he was forgiven so he would forgive himself.

"You're okay," Darry murmured softly, rubbing a hand up and down Pony's back, "You're not in trouble anymore, okay?"

Ponyboy wasn't sobbing anymore, but he was still sniffling and whimpering pitifully into Darry's shirt. He nodded in understanding, nonetheless, nuzzling his head against his brother's chest.

"I'm not mad, either," Darry assured, giving his brother a tight squeeze, "It's just a TV, and the money's there to replace it. I just want you two to be more careful from now on, alright, bubba?"

"Alright," Ponyboy answered quietly, only turning his head slightly so his words weren't muffled.

"Good boy," Darry praised quietly, kissing his the top of his brother's head affectionately.

He continued to murmur silent reassurances until Ponyboy had just about stopped crying, and then he gently pushed him back. His eyes were red and his cheeks were a little blotchy, and it made him look younger than he already did.

"You okay?" Darry asked gently, pushing his brother's hair off of his forehead.

Ponyboy nodded as he wiped off some of his remaining tears, still sniffling and hiccupping, "I'm okay," he said quietly, his voice hoarse, "My butt hurts."

"Good," Darry chuckled, pulling him in by the nape of his neck so he could kiss his head again. Ponyboy let him, still acting annoyed as he pulled away. Darry didn't really care – if he wanted to kiss one of his boys' heads, then he would, "Head upstairs and tell your brother to head down. You can watch TV or listen to music or something, alright? We're gonna have to go to the store for a new TV and pick up dinner when I'm done with Sodapop, so be ready, alright?"

Ponyboy's face fell further at the mention of his brother's impending doom, but he still nodded and got up to do as he was told. Darry let him rub some of the sting out of his butt as he stood up, figuring he was going to do it as soon as he was out of his sight, anyway.

He watched as his youngest brother retrieved his jeans from the floor and then slowly headed upstairs, somehow dreading his brother's punishment as much as his own. Ponyboy disappeared from his sight after a moment and Darry threw his head back with a sigh, preparing himself to punish his other, much brattier brother.

As he heard heavy feet coming down the stairs, Darry tried not to think about how many gray hairs he'd have by the time he was thirty.

* * *

 **wow, this turned out really long!**

 **for the first two chapters, I just wanted to give you a look into the dynamic between the brothers. This one show the relationship between Ponyboy and Darry, and the next one will show the relationship between Sodapop and Darry.**

 **after the next chapter, we'll start getting into actual storylines and the dynamic between all three brothers! i'll probably update Use Your Head before I update this one, but I'll try to make it as quick as possible.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this! I did my best! Please leave your comments and feedback and I'll try to have chapter two up as soon as I can!**


	3. Chapter 2

Darry was standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed by the time Sodapop made it the bottom of the stairs. The fifteen-year-old was more defiant than Ponyboy was – by a long shot – so Darry couldn't always be so warm with him. If he didn't start the punishment with a stern face, Soda would start trying to take advantage of his kindness.

"Sit," Darry directed sternly, nodding towards the couch. He hated that he had to be so harsh with Soda, but a lot of the time the kid didn't give him much of a choice.

"Obviously," the boy grumbled as he flopped down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, "I _always_ have to sit on the couch."

"Yeah, that's 'cause you're _always_ in trouble," Darry retorted, moving to take his position on the coffee table in front of his brother.

Sodapop and Ponyboy said that if it ever fell in one day when he went to sit on it, then he'd have to let them off with whatever they'd done. Darry agreed. Fortunately, it had yet to happen.

"'Cause you're _always_ overreacting," Soda shot back, glaring down at his lap with a frown. Teenage angst oozed out of every part of him.

"I'm overreacting because y'all were fucking around and broke a six hundred dollar TV?" Darry asked sternly, furrowing his eyebrows, "Do you have that kind of money to buy another one?"

After a pause and a put upon sigh, he responded dejectedly, "No," he grumbled before glaring up at his big brother through his eyelashes, "But _you_ do."

Between the smug tone of his voice and the smart-ass look he gave him, it took everything Darry had not to grab his little brother by the neck at that moment. Sodapop had a very smart mouth and a lot of pent-up anger and he tended to push Darry to his breaking point, but Darry'd gotten better at stopping himself from snapping at him.

"Or I could just take the one out of _your_ room and put it down here," Darry offered nonchalantly, shrugging, "It's not quite as big, but it would work. Save me six hundred dollars, too."

It was a completely empty threat. Soda's TV was the only thing he had left since he'd been grounded and honestly, Darry didn't have the energy to take it out of his room and deal with the bitch fit that would be thrown if he did. Still, watching Sodapop's eyes widen in horror was a little too satisfying for Darry. It was nice to know that he always had the upper hand.

"You can't do that!" he exclaimed, pushing himself up so he was no longer slouching, "You've already grounded me from all of my other stuff! You can't take my TV, too."

"The only reason you're still grounded is that you don't know how to stop smartin' off for more than five god damn seconds," Darry countered, leaning forward as an intimidation tactic. Darry never wanted either of his brothers to be afraid of him, but when they were in trouble he needed to make sure they knew how easily they could be turned over his knee. Especially Sodapop, because he liked to get bold.

As expected, Sodapop shrunk back, so Darry continued, "One week, Sodapop. I want one week of somewhat decent behavior from you, and that includes no talking back, and you'll be ungrounded. I don't expect perfection from you, and you know that. I just want you to not force me to yell at you for _one_ week and you're still acting like I'm asking too much of you. Do you think I like you being grounded? Do you think this is fun for me?"

"Bet you like it more than I do," he muttered, going back to glaring at the floor. His face was sullen but his eyes were fiery and it was clear that it was taking a lot out of him not to smart off any more than he already was.

"Then _behave_!" Darry raised his voice before he could stop himself. It had been a long day and he wasn't able to be as patient with Soda as he usually was. The kid could be an asshole, but Darry knew he wasn't like that deep down so he tried to refrain from being too harsh with him. He was still sensitive as hell; he just didn't act like it.

Sodapop flinched, shrinking in on himself. Despite the tough act, he hated to be yelled at and whenever Darry genuinely hollered at him he'd bawl like a baby. That was one thing that hadn't changed and even though it would probably be a good tactic to keep Sodapop in line, yelling at him wasn't how he wanted to get his little brother to behave.

Darry took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing in a lower voice, "Do you know why you're in trouble, Sodapop?"

"Yes," Sodapop replied simply, not elaborating any further. He'd recovered from Darry's slight outburst and was back to being obnoxious.

With an annoyed glare, Darry gestured for his little brother to go on.

He rolled his eyes and gave a put upon sigh before he responded mechanically, "I'm in trouble because Pony and I were roughhousing in the living room and that isn't allowed."

The tone of his voice was so blatantly annoyed and defiant that it made Darry want to snatch him up again, but he refrained. He didn't bother reprimanding him for it, either. It's not like it would get him anything besides another argument, so he'd just take it out on his behind when the time came.

"Exactly," he said firmly, straightening up, "You could have hurt yourself or your brother and you _did_ break something. A very expensive something, at that. That's not okay, Sodapop."

"I'm aware, Darry," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "We didn't do it on purpose."

"No, but you started roughhousing on purpose," Darry replied as he pushed himself up to stand, "Which resulted in the TV being broken."

Sodapop knew that when Darry stood up, only bad things followed, so he shrunk back into the couch, "Whatever," he grumbled quietly. Even though Darry could hear how nervous he suddenly was, the words were spoken with the same bratty tone everything else he'd been saying was. Even when he knew he was about to get spanked, he just couldn't stop himself.

"Up," Darry ordered simply, no longer wanting to waste his time bickering with the kid. They still had more to discuss, but it was easier to talk to Soda while he was over his knee. He was a lot less of a smartass with a warm behind.

Sodapop stood up, but immediately started to pull away when Darry grabbed him by the crook of his elbow, "Stop," he whined pitifully, trying to tug his arm out of his grip, "I don't need your help!"

Sodapop never wanted to feel like more of a child than he had to when he was being spanked, so he pretty much refused to have any help doing anything. He also did his best be stoic, but he always failed at that, too. No matter how hard he tried (and boy, did he try), he was always a mess of tears by the time he got off of Darry's lap, no matter the implement being used. He was more sensitive than he wanted to be, unfortunately, and Darry knew how much he hated himself for crying. It wasn't like Darry discouraged his tears, either. He'd told him a thousand times over that it was okay that he cried – he was supposed to, after all, but Soda never cared to hear it.

Darry remembered being like that when he was younger, so he understood, but he also understood how hard it was to keep your composure while getting your ass lit up. He got his last spanking when he was seventeen and even then, he still cried like a baby. Darry had always been a tough son of a bitch, so he could hardly expect to Soda to be stoic the entire time when not even he could. It was next to impossible – he just couldn't get his little brother to accept that.

Darry let Sodapop carry on with his need to feel independent, though, ignoring his attitude and letting go of his arm, "Alright, fine. Get your jeans down."

"I'm too old for this," he grumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down to his knees with an annoyed huff.

Darry'd had just about enough of the kid's attitude, but he knew it wouldn't be around for much longer so he continued to let it go. Sodapop should have realized by then that Darry was quietly taking note of all of his little smart-ass comments, annoyed sighs, huffs, and blatant disrespect, but he hadn't. He never did, really, but he always looked surprised when Darry told him to fetch a more severe implement than his actual offense had earned.

"You'll be too old for this when you stop misbehaving," Darry stated simply, taking his spot in the middle of the couch and patting his lap.

Sodapop knew what the gesture meant and he climbed over Darry's lap with a sigh, "Even when I do, you'll find something to spank me for."

Darry chuckled dryly as his younger brother got situated over his lap, shaking his head. He found it incredibly odd that Soda thought he enjoyed hurting him. Quite frankly, spanking his little brothers was Darry's least favorite thing to do, but he knew he had to do it. For some reason, though, the two of them acted like it was his favorite past time.

"You know the drill," Darry stated, wrapping an arm around him, "Keep still and keep your hands in front of you."

Sodapop cut him off with a groan, dramatically dropping his head against the couch, "If I know the drill then _why_ are you telling me?"

He was completely vulnerable and in a terrible position to _still_ be running his mouth, but Darry just used that to his advantage. He planted a sharp swat to the middle of his bottom, ignoring the surprised yelp it drew out of the teenager, "Obviously, you don't know because you are _still. smarting. off!_ "

Each emphasized word was accompanied by heavy swats to the lower part of his behind and the first two were met with strained grunts, while the last one earned him a pained whimper. Sodapop shut up after that, folding his arms in front of him and burying his head in them. Darry would have appreciated an apology, but he figured it was better not to push for the time being. His kid would be plenty sorry by the time they were through.

"You need to learn how to keep your mouth shut," he said firmly, tightening his grip on his younger brother to keep him in place. Sodapop wasn't as much of a squirmer as Ponyboy was, but he was never perfectly still, either. "It always gets you in more trouble, Sodapop. Every single time."

When he was only met with silence again, Darry decided it was probably time to just get it over with. He'd go back to the talking portion once the defiance had been spanked out of Sodapop. It was always easier to get him to talk once they were about halfway finished.

Darry could tell by his body language that Sodapop was ready for him to start, too, so he patted his ass a couple of times in warning before beginning to methodically warm him up, landing swat after painful swat.

He always used his hand to warm the boys up before he spanked them, which was a method he'd learned from their father. It lessened the appearances of any marks that would be left from their spanking, which was important to Darry. He hated leaving any bruises on either of his boys, but sometimes when he was using a heavier implement, it was inevitable. Not jumping straight into the actual spanking helped avoid it, though.

Warm-up's also allowed the boys more time to think before their _actual_ spanking starts and it got the tears flowing faster, which Darry viewed as a plus. He hardly based the end of a punishment on tears, because both of his brothers could be dramatic. He really did hate to see or hear them cry, but a crying boy tended to be a well-behaved boy. It may have hurt his heart a little, but it was always easier to punish them when they were crying and repentant from the earlier stages of the punishment instead of the later ones.

The biggest reason Darry always started with his hand was that he knew that it helped with the pain once he switched to an implement. For example: if he were to start spanking Pony or Soda with the hairbrush on untouched skin instead of skin that was already warmed up, it would hurt a hell of a lot more. Neither of the boys knew it, but he was really doing them a favor by prolonging their punishments. If he were to ever skip the warm-up stage, they'd probably be howling like dogs by the tenth swat.

The warm-up stage was easier for Sodapop than it was for Ponyboy, but that's because he didn't think as hard as his younger brother did. He tended to focus more on the pain itself than the reason for the pain until Darry started scolding him and making him answer questions. That was usually when the guilt started to catch up with him.

By the time they were finished this time around, Sodapop's breath was slightly labored and his toes were curled up. Darry knew his eyes were probably red already, too, but he'd stayed silent for the most part.

Darry slid his hands under Soda's stomach and helped him stand up. Soda allowed himself the assistance this time, but still shot a glare at his older brother as he stood up. His eyes were wet and he was sniffling, but his attitude was still clear on his face.

 _Oh well,_ Darry thought to his self, _It won't be for long._

Sodapop finished stepping out of his jeans without any prompting, leaving them in a pool on the floor before turning around to grab the wooden spoon from where Darry had left it on the coffee table. He hesitated slightly for a moment before he turned back around, shoving the spoon out to Darry with a sigh.

"Uh-Uh," Darry shook his head, taking the spoon from Soda before turning him towards the dresser that held the other implements, "Get the hairbrush."

And just like that, all of the defiance and bratty attitude that had once been consuming the boy had vanished and was now replaced with a bit of a panicked look and wide eyes, "B-But Ponyboy got the spoon!"

"Ponyboy wasn't a brat from the moment he got down here," Darry replied calmly, "You knew all that mouthing off was gonna make your punishment worse. You kept going, anyway, so you're getting the hairbrush."

Sodapop sputtered for a moment, trying to find a way to talk his self out of it. When he couldn't, he just whined, "C'mon, Dar! I wasn't even that bad!"

His sudden change in demeanor had Darry feeling a little bad, but he wasn't about to falter. Soda knew there were consequences to being so disrespectful when he was already in trouble and he knew he had to face them.

"You _were_ that bad," Darry said sternly, keeping his face and tone firm, "I'm not going to argue with you. You can either get the hairbrush or I can get up and get it for you, but I don't think you want me to do that, do you?"

Soda shook his head quickly. He knew that _'I can get up and get it for you'_ was more of a threat than an offering of help and now that he was done being devilish, he was trying to avoid any more trouble.

With one last pitiful look, he turned back around and started to shuffle his feet towards the dresser. A part of Darry wanted to hurry him up, but he figured it was a feat for Soda to be doing it without any further prompting, so he let him move at his own pace.

When Sodapop walked back towards him, hairbrush in hand, Darry was pleased to see that the first couple of tears were rolling down his cheeks. The hard-headed brat he'd been acting like was now replaced with the sweet, eager to please kid that Darry knew had never left and he was obviously sorry that he didn't just keep his mouth shut. Sodapop still wiped the tears off of his face the second his brother took the hairbrush out of his hand, so Darry knew that the modesty and stoicism weren't going anywhere, but it was progress nonetheless.

"You have got to learn to stop smarting off when you're already in trouble," Darry stated as he helped Sodapop back over his lap, his voice gentler now but still firm, "You don't get to be so disrespectful to me and then expect me to just let it go. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation."

It most definitely was not. Nearly every other time Sodapop landed himself in trouble, he managed to talk himself into more. His reactions were always the same when he realized he'd earned himself more punishment, but that never stopped him from doing the exact same thing a week later. Sometimes, it was like he couldn't help himself.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, grabbing a throw pillow and wrapping his arms around it, "I don't…"

Darry tapped the hairbrush against his bare thighs after he realized Soda wasn't going to finish, "You don't what, Sodapop?"

"I didn't mean to be so rude," he answered quietly after another moment of silence, only bothering to reply because Darry tapped him a little bit harder, "Sorry."

"Mm," Darry hummed in acknowledgment as he pulled Sodapop back against him, "You never do. Maybe, just maybe, you'll learn to be more careful next time."

Sodapop nodded, sticking his head into the pillow and muttering something. Darry couldn't quite understand what he'd said, but he was sure it was in the affirmative so he didn't ask for him to repeat it. Instead, he decided to get on with the punishment. The longer he made him wait, the higher the chances of Soda turning back into a brat were. Neither of them wanted that, so he made sure he had a hold of his kid brother and patted his behind in fair warning.

Even though he knew it was coming, Sodapop flinched considerably when the first swat landed. Darry got into a slow, deliberate rhythm, landing stinging swats all across his brother's bottom. He always started off slow – focusing more on making it hurt than speed. Speed was good, too, but that was at the end. Quick, sharp swats were good for pushing the boys over the edge and making sure they were sorry. Slow, heavy swats were better for making them think about _why_ they were sorry. Plus, it left more time for them to think about just how much it hurt. That was a plus, too.

And thinking about it, he was. They were about fifteen swats in when Soda started to curl and uncurl his toes, a pretty common reaction for him when it was really starting to hurt and he wasn't ready to make noise yet.

Darry picked up the pace after another minute or so, delivering faster swats with the same amount of force. The uptake in speed definitely got Sodapop's attention and he went from curling his toes to drumming his feet on the couch within a second. He still hadn't cried out, but he was grunting and whimpering quietly into the pillow he had pressed to his face, so Darry knew it wouldn't be long before he would.

"This isn't the first time you and your brother have went over my knee for this," Darry reminded him, not slowing down the onslaught, "I've told you both time and time again, but you _never. want. to. listen."_

This time, Sodapop let out a real whine, now genuinely kicking his feet against the couch. His feet always lost control before the rest of him did and once they were moving, they didn't stop until after his spanking finished. He didn't like to cry out very much and he wasn't much of a squirmer, so that was his way of coping. When it came down to it, he used the same rule with him as he did with Pony: as long as he wasn't actively trying to get out of the line of fire, Darry left him be. The continuous sound of his feet drumming against the couch cushion could be annoying, but he honestly preferred it to Ponyboy's constant wriggling.

"When I tell you to two not to mess around in here, I'm not doing it to ruin your fun," Darry went on, moving down to Sodapop's sit spots, "I'm doing it because I know how easily things get broken. I also know how _easily_ one of you could have gotten _hurt._ "

He accompanied the two emphasized words with harder swats before stopping, letting Sodapop rest for a moment. Darry could tell he was crying, now, but he was still hiding his face in the pillow. Now that they were into the talking stage, that simply wouldn't do, so Darry reached up to tug it away from him as he spoke, "What were you gonna do if something would have fallen and one of you got hurt? What if you'd knocked over the dresser or the bookcase and it fell on top of your brother? I wasn't home. Do you really think you would have been able to get it off of him by yourself?"

At the thought of this, Soda's crying cranked up, "I don't know!" he whined, dropping his head against the couch.

Sodapop would die ten times over for Ponyboy, so sometimes Darry had to use that protectiveness to get through to him. He didn't like to guilt trip the kid, but it wasn't like what he was saying was impossible. When Darry was fifteen, he was home alone with nine-year-old Sodapop and seven-year-old Ponyboy and they were roughhousing in the living room. In the midst of it, he'd accidentally pushed Sodapop into the bookcase and it came right down on top of him. Darry had never been as scared as he was when he heard Soda scream from under that thing.

Ponyboy was on the other side of the room, (which was a good thing, because he was fucking _tiny_ and he could have died if it had landed on him instead), but he started crying almost immediately, too. Luckily, it only took a split second for his big brother instincts to kick in and for him to send Pony off to call one of their parents. Once he'd scampered off, Darry put everything he had into getting the damn bookcase off of his brother. With all the strength in his teenage body, accompanied by a serious adrenaline rush and sheer willpower, he managed to push it off of him.

Somehow or another, Sodapop made it out of that with just a broken arm and a slight concussion, but that didn't mean Darry hated himself any less for letting it happen. That night, once their Dad had gotten him and Ponyboy home (their Mom had stayed at the hospital with Soda), Darry handed his father the strap with tears running down his face. He was 100% sure he deserved the whipping of a lifetime, but he didn't get one.

He didn't get a spanking at all, actually. Just a _very_ stern talking to from their father, which was like a spanking but just with words, about how he needs to be more responsible and watch what he's doing when he was watching the boys. He also told him how proud he was of him for how he well handled the situation. That pride held a huge part on why Darry didn't get his butt blistered, but looking back, Darry realized that he really _had_ handled the situation really well. Six years later, he still kind of felt like he deserved to be spanked for that, but at the time the fear and the scolding seemed to be enough.

And thus, the 'no roughhousing in the living room' rule was born.

"I wouldn't let nothing happen to him, Dar," Sodapop said quietly, sniffling, "I would have done something."

"I know you wouldn't, Soda," Darry said with a sigh, his voice gentler now, "Not on purpose, at least, but accidents happen and he could have ended up hurt. That's why I'm always on you two about this. I still remember how I felt when that bookcase fell on you. It's not a good feeling, dudda."

Sodapop sniffled pitifully and it was obvious that he would rather be curled in on himself than in such a vulnerable position, "I know," he said quietly after a minute, "I'm sorry."

They still had a little while to go, but Darry was glad to hear an apology out of his little brother. He still didn't acknowledge it though, but instead patted his butt in warning again. This time when he started swatting, it was quick paced and sharp right off the bat and Sodapop immediately let out a pained whine. The faster swats really weren't good for him and his attempt at stoicism.

Darry didn't falter, though, spanking Soda thoroughly for another couple of minutes. The kid did give up being quiet, as Darry expected, and was openly crying and whimpering now. Once Darry turned his attention to Soda's thighs, those cries turned into sobs and he knew it was about time to wrap it up.

Darry smacked the brush down hard a couple of more times before he stopped, leaving the brush rested on his bare thighs as a reminder that there was more to come, "Are we going to have this problem again?"

"No!" Soda cried, shaking his head, "N-not gonna happen again, Dar!"

Darry smiled a little to himself as he thought about how similar his answer was to Ponyboy's, but he quickly shook the thought out of his head. He still needed to finish.

He landed two more swats, one to each of Soda's thighs, before he spoke again, "Are you going to be such a brat when I try to talk to you next time?"

"Noooo," he whined, arching his back in reaction to the onslaught on such sensitive skin, "Please stop, Darry! I'm sorry!"

It was rare that Sodapop would beg, but he really hated that hairbrush. Plus, he was getting smacked on his bare thighs and Darry wasn't really holding back. He hated to hear him cry, but he needed him to learn a lesson on disrespect and rule breaking.

"I don't want to have this talk with you again, Sodapop," Darry stated sternly, showing some mercy and smacking his brief clad bottom instead of his thighs this time, "Not about breaking this rule and definitely not about you talking back. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," he sobbed out, officially going limp over his brother's lap, "It's c-clear."

Satisfied that the boy had been well chastised, Darry patted his back gently, "Alright, kiddo. We're done."

Sodapop was obviously relieved to hear this but didn't make a move to get up. He continued to sob into the couch cushion and Darry let him, gently rubbing the small of his back.

Soda wasn't like Pony when it came to comfort. He liked it, of course, but his pride didn't let him accept it as much as he had when he was younger. Unless it had been a _really_ bad spanking, he tended to calm himself down some before he let Darry hug him, no longer being a huge fan of sobbing into his big brother's shirt.

Darry missed when he'd sit on his lap like Pony did, but he knew he was growing up and he was going to have to let go of that part, eventually. The older the boys got, the more independent they'd be (although, Darry was pretty sure Ponyboy wouldn't be giving up his cuddles anytime soon) and that they'd be able to take care of themselves more. No matter what, though, he'd always hug them after he tanned their hides, whether they wanted him to or not.

Once his sobs had died down to pitiful sniffles and whimpers, Darry helped Sodapop into a sitting position next to him. Darry wrapped his arms around his brother, letting him stick his wet face into his shirt, "I'm not mad at you, kid," he assured him softly, rubbing his back, "You aren't in any trouble, anymore, but you and Pony aren't getting your allowances until half of the TV is paid off. I know it was an accident, but it was still technically you guys' fault."

Sodapop pulled back, face red and eyes puffy but obviously ready to argue. Darry was already prepared to turn him back over his knee, but just as quickly as it came, the defiance died back down and he sighed miserably.

"Okay," he grumbled, using the back of his hand to wipe off his face, "I guess that's fair. 'm not about to be happy about it, though."

Darry chuckled softly, pulling Soda back towards him so he could kiss his head, "I don't expect you to be, dudda. As long as you're not a brat about it, we're okay."

The fact that he didn't go into a rant about how unfair Darry was being meant that the spanking had worked for the time being, at least. Darry was sure it wouldn't last, but he was glad he'd have a day or two of peace from the kid.

Sodapop nodded, sniffling. "I'm not gonna be a brat," he promised softly after a moment of silence, "I'm sick of being grounded, Dar."

"I know you are," Darry replied, resting his hand on the kid's shoulder, "It's been awhile. You gonna be good for me for a week?"

Sodapop shrugged, staring down at his lap, "I can try?"

Darry knew that was about all he could ask for with Sodapop, so he smiled softly and nodded, "Good. As long as I know you're trying, I can be a little lenient."

Sodapop perked up some at that, smiling back a little, "I'll try."

"Good," Darry said again with a short nod before he pulled the kid in so he could kiss the top of his head once more, "Now, go wash your face and get some pants on. We've got a TV to buy."

* * *

 **i'm so sorry for the wait! it's harder to keep up with two stories than I thought it would be!**

 **anyways, i'm honestly not a huge fan of this chapter, but it's alright! when I update again, we'll be getting into the real storyline and you'll get to meet some of the characters!**

 **leave your feedback and I hope you enjoy!**


	4. Chapter 3

When summer ended and it was time for his brothers to start school again, Darry was no more excited than Ponyboy or Sodapop. With school came homework, more attitude problems, drama, and a whole bunch of other shit that Darry didn't have to worry about during the precious three months that school wasn't in session.

It's not that summer vacation was ideal. Darry still wasn't a huge fan of leaving the boys home alone all day, considering the kind of trouble they were capable of getting into on their own. Darry made it clear that they weren't allowed to leave the house until he got home, nor were they allowed to have any company that wasn't approved of by Darry. They tried to anyway, of course, but Darry was using three different neighbors as lookouts in case they snuck out or snuck someone in. Eventually, they figured out how Darry always knew and they gave it up.

That meant the only trouble they could manage to get into would be within their house. Darry was sure that being home alone for eight hours and not causing any major trouble would be simple for any other two teenage boys, but not his. His little brothers had managed to break a TV, four cups, three plates, a window, the leg off of a chair, put a hole in the wall of Pony's bedroom, and get into three fist fights. That was all just in one summer alone, and it was only the things he could get them to admit to. Quite frankly, he knew there was plenty of other shit that had happened that he simply did not want to know about.

Even with all of the trouble they caused at home, summer vacation was still better than the school year. At least when they were at home, the only people they had to fight with were each other. Darry knew that even though he easily could, Sodapop wouldn't hurt Ponyboy no matter how much he pissed him off. The kids at school, on the other hand, weren't so nice to his baby brother.

Despite the fact that he'd rather they didn't, Darry knew he had to send the boys to school. They were back in the same school since Ponyboy was starting his Freshman year, which gave Darry some comfort since Soda could keep an eye on him but still, he wasn't looking forward to it.

Sodapop and Ponyboy were dreading it just as much, and they had no problem showing it. Every time he even mentioned school or anything regarding it, he was met with two put-upon groans. Pony wasn't so bad; he was very anxious about starting high school and didn't want summer break to end, but his dismay was normal. Soda, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

Sodapop absolutely hated school and everything about it. Of course, every kid hated school but Soda held a whole new type of resentment for the place.

It wasn't because he didn't have friends because that was one thing he had plenty of. Nobody messed with him and he was fairly popular, he just wasn't all that great at school itself. He really did try, Darry knew he did, but he was always a 'C' student at best.

He acted like it didn't bother him when he studied for a week straight and still got a D on a test, but Darry always saw straight through it. Soda cracked plenty of self-deprecating jokes to cover it up, but Darry knew that he'd painted himself as dumb in his own mind and how much he hated himself for it. Plus, he'd convinced himself that all of his teachers hated him, too, which really didn't help how he felt about school.

During the previous school year, Sodapop was about to get his butt blistered with the hairbrush for starting yet another fight when he suddenly clutched onto Darry, sobbing and begging for him to let him drop out. At first, Darry was sure that it was just a ploy to get out of his punishment, but he quickly realized that his little brother was truly distressed.

If it was Ponyboy, Darry probably wouldn't have batted an eye. Randomly bursting into tears and clinging on to him wasn't necessarily out of character for Pony, especially when he was about to get spanked. Soda, on the other hand, was way too modest to do that unless something was really wrong.

And on this day, something obviously was. Soda pressed his face into Darry's stomach and cried about how dumb he was and how he wanted nothing more than to just be done with school in general. He swore he'd get a job and clean the house or anything else Darry wanted him to do as long as he didn't have to go back. Darry tried to calm him down, but he was practically inconsolable.

He knew that Soda didn't like school, but it wasn't until that day that he got a real look at just how much he resented it. It broke his heart to see his baby brother so distressed, but he knew he couldn't let him drop out. He was still passing, albeit barely, and he was already nearly two years in. Darry had no intention of making him go to college, so he just needed to finish his last couple of years and then he'd be done.

Of course, Sodapop wasn't happy to hear that and proceeded to cry miserably for nearly an hour before he finally calmed down, accepting that his big brother wasn't about to let him quit school. He was quite grumpy by the time they finished that conversation, so Darry just gave him his spanking (which was much milder than he originally planned it to be) and put him to bed. Soda didn't mention his break down the next morning, so Darry didn't either, but it never left his mind.

So, when school was starting again, Darry did his best to deal with Sodapop's moods without snapping at him. The kid's attitude was always worse than usual when it came time to start school. He was anxious and frustrated and it definitely showed in the way he acted. Darry understood why he was so testy so he tried to stick to stern warnings and looks when he started to get a little too mouthy. It worked for a couple of days, but after a while, he ignored the looks the same way he usually did and Darry knew he was going to have to do something about it.

It was while they were school shopping when Darry had just about had enough. Soda had been a brat all that day and had been swearing and huffing the entire time they were at the store. Ponyboy kept giving him looks that were obviously begging him to stop, but he ignored them all the way through. When they were headed to the checkout lanes, Darry told him that he obviously needed an attitude adjustment when they got home. It wasn't until then that Soda finally shut up.

He was completely silent the whole ride home, obviously regretting his actions. That was unlike him because he tended to talk himself into more trouble instead of pouting and staring out of a window. Then again, he hadn't been acting too much like himself that week anyway.

He'd actually been doing as he told and not running his mouth too much, but Darry knew that had everything to do with wanting to be ungrounded. Since the conversation they had after his spanking earlier that week, Sodapop actually had been putting in an effort to not be so terrible. He'd been succeeding, too, but Darry could still see how bad of a mood he was in. He'd been doing a surprisingly good job at not taking it out on anybody, but it could only last for so long. He was very frustrated, anxious, and stressed out and shopping for school supplies pushed all of that to the surface and made him get snappy.

Which is how Darry ended up sitting next to a nearly sixteen-year-old pouting boy on the couch, trying to decide how he was going to deal with him. He really had been a huge brat all day, especially while they were shopping, and he probably deserved to get his butt spanked. However, Darry knew the underlying causes and Soda already did seem to regret acting the way he had. Unfortunately, though, he knew that Soda wouldn't feel any better until he talked about it. From experience, he knew that was easier said than done.

"Soda," he said gently, trying to get the kid's attention. He was glaring at the coffee table, but he wasn't in his usual bratty mood and was more resigned, upset and obviously wrapped up in his thoughts. It was very odd to see him such a position, and weirdly enough, Darry kind of wished he'd go back to his usual devilish self.

Soda didn't really answer, so Darry tried again, "Look at me, Sodapop."

With a put-upon sigh, his little brother peeked over at him. Soda turned a little so he was facing him before crossing his arms over his chest, "What?"

"Watch it, kid," Darry said sternly, nudging his brother's knee with his, "You're on thin ice."

Soda just sighed, leaning back and dropping his gaze down to his lap again. He obviously wasn't in the mood to talk, but Darry knew he really needed to, anyway. Soda was visibly pretty upset and anxious as hell, and that was only going to get worse unless he talked about whatever he had going on in his head.

"Why are you so worked up, Soda?" Darry asked, deciding to get it over with first, "And don't say you're not; I know you too well to fall for that."

His face fell further and he shrugged, not looking up, "Because I'm in trouble," he mumbled miserably, making it obvious that he didn't even believe that.

"You're in trouble all the time," Darry pointed out, "Even when you're in big trouble, you never act like this."

"I'm not acting like anything," he insisted, trying and failing miserably to sound surer of his self, "I'm _fine."_

"No, you're not," Darry replied with an eye roll, "You've been a brat all day and you're clearly acting like this because something's bothering you. Tell me."

"No, I'm not," Soda continued to argue, "I'm _always_ bad. I'm not actin' like anything because of anything, Dar. I'm fine."

The first part caught Darry a little off guard, especially since he could hear the hurt in Soda's voice when he said it. Darry _never_ told him he was bad. Soda pushed him as far as he would go on a nearly regular basis and there were times where he made Darry so mad, he couldn't even talk to him and yet Darry never told him he was bad because that simply was not true.

When he felt like Darry was only focusing on Ponyboy, he worried that he'd slip between the cracks so he'd act out just to make sure he wasn't forgotten. Sometimes, he did stuff he wasn't supposed to and it had nothing to do with his abandonment issues – he just did it because he felt like it. He was a smart-mouthed, spoiled brat, sure, but he wasn't a bad kid nor had he ever been, and Darry never purposely made him feel like he was.

"First of all," Darry started, furrowing his eyebrows and leaning up some, "I never said you were bad. I said you were acting like a brat, which you almost always are, but you aren't a bad kid, so don't say that."

Sodapop just sighed again in response, so Darry continued, "Secondly, I _know_ there's something wrong, kid. I've got a pretty good idea of what it is, too, so if you'd like to just open your mouth and tell me instead of just sitting there and pouting, I'd really appreciate it."

Finally, Sodapop looked up so he could glare at his brother, "I'm not pouting!" he squawked indignantly, "And I don't want to talk! Why can't you just spank me and leave me alone?"

"Because I'm your brother and it's my life goal to annoy you," Darry stated, deadpan. When all he got was another glare, he let out an exasperated sigh, "Seriously, Soda. Talk to me."

Sodapop's gaze dropped back down to his lap after that, sighing. He was quiet for a minute or so, wringing his hands in his lap before he finally replied, "I dunno," he whispered, voice cracking ever so slightly.

Darry was definitely surprised when he realized that his little brother was crying. Soda really wasn't much of a crier and he never had been. Unless he knew that he was in _big_ trouble, he never cried before a punishment and he tried his best not to cry during the punishment itself. For him to already be in tears before something as mild as an attitude adjustment showed Darry that his brother was much more upset than he'd originally thought.

"Is this about school starting next week?" Darry asked gently, deciding to try and jumpstart the conversation. He knew that once he got Soda to open his mouth and speak, everything would more than likely come pouring out. He just needed to get him talking.

There was a small sniffle and a shrug before Darry heard the words _'kind of'_ being muttered. Soda obviously didn't intend to make it easy.

"Okay," Darry started slowly, regarding his brother carefully, "What about starting school is bothering you?"

Darry already knew, but he figured it was better to ask. There was always a chance Soda had a new reason he hated school, and Darry knew if that was the case then it was better that he knew it.

"Everything," he answered simply, hastily wiping away a falling tear. It was clear that he couldn't really help it, but he was obviously still embarrassed that he was crying.

"Everything," Darry repeated to confirm, giving his brother an odd look. When he nodded, Darry continued, "Can you elaborate on that?" Darry pushed, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Darry wasn't surprised when Soda went from sullen to indignant within half a second, sitting up straighter and glaring at him through teary eyes. It was far from out of Soda's nature to switch up like that.

"Just _everything,_ Darry!" he blurted, no longer speaking so quietly, "I hate it there! I just want to drop out but you won't let me and it's not _fair_."

"I know you hate it, Soda," Darry said with a sigh, "And I know _why_ you hate it, but-"

"No, you don't!" Soda cried, now on the edge of the couch. Darry knew it wouldn't be long before he was standing, "You don't understand because you were _smart!_ You played _football_ and you were gonna go to _college_ and everything was so easy for you!"

"That's not true, Soda," Darry interrupted him quietly, trying to regain at least some control before Soda burst into a full-blown tantrum. His attempts were futile, though, and Soda continued on.

"It is true!" Soda argued, now standing and officially crying, "You know it is! Every single fucking thing you do is so easy for you, Dar! And Ponyboy…he's like a genius! He's two years younger than me and he can _literally_ do my homework and it's _still_ so easy to him! It's not fair! Why doesn't anything come that easy to me? Why can't I be good at something?"

Soda was most definitely straddling the line that he wasn't allowed to cross on any other day, and Darry knew that he probably should have stood up and delivered a swat or two, but Soda was actually talking. It was actually more like yelling and there were definitely more respectful ways in which he could have been doing it, but Darry knew that he needed to let him rant for a bit.

"You're good at lots of things," Darry pointed out calmly, sitting up some just in case he needed to grab his brother. Soda had a temper, especially when he was like this, but he tended to hurt himself in fits of rage more than he hurt others. As long as he had something to do with it, Darry didn't let that happen.

"Nothing important!" Soda argued, now pacing, "I _need_ to be good at school. That's what I need to be good at, but I'm lucky to get a fucking _'C'_ in any subject besides gym. I'm dumb as hell and you know I am and I hate having to go to school so everyone else can know it, too! It's not fair!"

Darry knew that any attempts to interrupt him were completely useless at that point, but he figured he'd give it a try anyway, "You are _not_ dumb, Sodapop. Not getting good grades doesn't make you dumb."

Soda stopped pacing, facing his older brother so he could shoot him an unamused glare, "That's _exactly_ what it makes me. That's, like, the definition of dumb, Dar. I'm dumb! I am so fucking dumb, and you can tell me that I'm not all you want, but I still know you're just trying to spare my feelings for some reason because we all know I'm dumb! I can't do anything right and I'm a fucking idiot and I should just-"

"Sodapop Patrick, that's enough!" Darry stated firmly, realizing that it would probably just be self-deprecation from that point on if he let him continue. Giving his brother a stern look, he pointed at the spot beside him on the couch, "Sit down."

He was still glaring and scowling fervently, but he must have realized that Darry meant business because he flopped down against the couch, crossing his arms back over his chest. His eyes were downcast again, but Darry knew that simply would not do.

"Look at me, Sodapop," he directed, just as firm as he was before. It's not that he was angry with Soda, nor did he want him to think that he was. He just knew that he needed to be stern if he wanted to actually get anywhere with his little brother. He gave him his time to rant, now it was his turn to listen.

With a put-upon sigh, Soda looked towards his brother, still pouting. Once Darry was sure that he had Soda's full attention, he scooted closer to him and continued, "You are _not_ dumb. You've never been dumb, and we've talked about what happens when you decide to go on a tirade and talk down on yourself like that, haven't we?"

They'd had that conversation numerous times, actually. Soda had a problem with self-deprecation, whether he was doing it jokingly or was completely serious like he just had been. Darry spent a lot of time trying to get him to quit it, but he eventually realized that the only way he would get him to stop doing it would have to be the same way he got him to stop doing everything else: punish him for it.

Of course, Darry didn't toss him over his knee every time he uttered a bad word about himself because that really wasn't fair. Everybody talked down about themselves sometimes, Darry knew that, but Sodapop tended to take it to a whole new level. It was only when he did that Darry decided to put a stop to it.

Shrinking back against the couch, Soda's glare was slowly morphing back into the sullen pout he'd been sporting before and it was clear he was realizing that he'd talked himself into more trouble. "Darry," he practically whined, throwing his head back.

Darry shook his head, refusing to be swayed by his brother's pitiful look, "Have we or have we not talked about what happens, Sodapop?"

"We have," he mumbled, a stray tear rolling down his cheeks as he dropped his gaze, "But-"

"No buts," Darry cut him off, holding up a hand, "You know better. Stand up."

Instinctually, Soda made a move to do as he was told. Just as he was about to stand, he paused and sent his brother one last pleading look, "Please, don't spank me, Dar," he almost whispered, a fresh wave of tears welling up in his eyes, "I'm sorry. I'm done, now. I promise."

It wasn't easy for Darry to ignore his tone, words, or the look he was giving him. It was incredibly rare for Soda to willingly be so vulnerable, considering he tended to be (or at least try his best to be) stone cold at all times. The fact that he was openly crying and pleading showed Darry that his baby brother was really having a hard day.

As much as he wanted to, Darry knew that backing down at that point wouldn't set a good precedent. Besides, it wouldn't be a bad spanking, anyway. In his current state, it wouldn't take much to get through to Sodapop. Darry just hoped that once they were done, Soda would be in the mood to talk in a much calmer way than he had been before.

"I'm glad to hear that you're done and that you're sorry, but you're still getting spanked, buddy," Darry informed him, ignoring the way his brother's face was making his heart hurt, "C'mon, do as your told and stand up. I'm not repeating myself again."

Soda used the back of his hand to wipe his face off before he slowly stood up, sniffling. Once he was up, Darry scooted over onto the middle couch cushion, assuming his usual position, "I know you've got a lot on your mind," Darry told him sympathetically as he got situated, "But you know you're not supposed to just keep everything buried until you explode like that. That's why I've been trying to get you to talk."

"I know," Sodapop mumbled without looking up. He was playing with the hem of his shirt and digging at the carpet with his toes, which were two of his nervous habits, "I wanna talk now."

The slightest hint of a smile crossed Darry's face at that and he fought the urge to shake his head fondly. It was just like Soda to decide to do what Darry wanted _after_ he'd already gotten himself into trouble. He just hoped that Soda would still the same after his butt hurt.

"I'm glad to hear that you're ready to talk," Darry stated calmly, giving his brother a small smile, "I promise you, we can talk for as long as you'd like once we're done here."

Sodapop was obviously upset that his attempt to get himself out of trouble hadn't worked, but he still gave a small nod. With a tearful sigh, his hands went down to unbutton his jeans. He stopped before he actually did it, though, pausing to look at Darry for confirmation.

"Go ahead," Darry directed, seeing no point in stalling any longer. Soda did as he was told without any further prompting, unbuttoning and pushing his jeans down to his knees. Once he'd done that, he shot Darry one last pleading look before placing himself over his big brother's knee.

"Tell me why you're in trouble, Sodapop," Darry prompted after Soda had gotten comfortable, wrapping an arm around his brother's waist to keep him still.

"Because…Because I was talking down to myself and I'm not supposed to do that," Soda said quietly, obviously trying to keep his tone even. It was obvious that he was still crying, though, and his voice wavered accordingly.

"Mhm," Darry confirmed, patting his brother's back gently, "Plus, I need you to stop keeping stuff bottled up until it turns you into the Grinch, alright? That's not healthy and this could have been handled already if you'd just talk to me about stuff instead of trying to deal with it yourself. I know you want to be independent, but it's okay that you still need me sometimes. You understand?"

Darry knew that his words really weren't helping his brother's already tearful state, but he also knew that he needed to hear it.

"Yes, sir," he muttered with a sniffle, obviously wishing he was anywhere else. After wiping his face off on his forearm, he turned a little so he could look at Darry, "Can you…Can I have a pillow, please?"

Understanding that his brother was embarrassed and feeling a little too vulnerable, Darry nodded and reached beside him to grab the throw pillow. He handed it to Soda with a sympathetic smile, ruffling his hair once he took it. It truly was painful for him to be punishing Soda when he was already so upset, but Darry knew he needed it.

"Thank you," Sodapop muttered, wrapping his arms around the pillow and squeezing like his life depended on it. He took a couple of deep breaths before he quietly told Darry that he was ready and then stuffed his face into the pillow.

Darry nodded to himself, adjusting his grip on his brother one last time before beginning his punishment. He landed the first of several sharp swats on the left side, following up with the second on his right. Sodapop flinched and whimpered ever so slightly with both of them, but seemed to relax into it as Darry got into a rhythm.

Darry had no intention of using an implement this time, which was also very rare. Although Darry was fairly sure that his hand could cause more hurt than the wooden spoon, he never dished out full spankings with his hand because his palm ended up being sorer than the boys' behinds. Of course, Sodapop and Ponyboy didn't know that's why their big brother hardly used his hand and Darry really had no intentions of telling them, either.

Sending Soda to fetch an implement would have made an easy punishment harder, though, and Darry knew that, so he opted to just use his hand. It would probably be sore by the time he was done, but he decided to pick his battles.

It didn't take very long for Soda to start really feeling it, either. Within about a minute of steady swats, Soda was whining into his pillow, subtly shifting his hips to try and alleviate the sting. Soda was usually much better at hiding reactions than that, but it was clear that he didn't care too much about being stoic this time around. He was crying before Darry even started smacking him, so it's not like it really mattered.

Darry went on for another minute or so before he decided to start lecturing, ready to get to the point. He wasn't really holding back, so he knew that Soda's butt had to have been hurting by then. Now, he just needed to tie the lesson to the pain.

"I've talked to you time and time again about not talking about yourself the way you just were," Darry said, still swatting relentlessly, "I don't care how true you think it is – keyword _think_ – you're not about to just go on rants about how dumb or how useless you are."

By this point, Soda's crying was much more obvious. His back was shaking and Darry could hear his hitching gulps even though they were muffled by the pillow. His feet were crossing and crossing in another attempt to lessen the pain, but Darry knew they still had a while to go.

"Just because you don't get the best grades doesn't make you dumb, Sodapop Patrick," Darry continued to lecture, starting to work on the area where Soda's butt met his thighs, "I don't care what it looks like on paper, you're incredibly smart and I am sick of listening to you say otherwise."

"I'm sorry!" Soda cried, not removing his face from the pillow, "I'm n-not…I won't do it anymore!"

"Good," Darry said simply, not giving his brother the break that he knew he was incredibly desperate for, "You're not dumb, and you're definitely not useless. I know you forget this a lot, and I sure as hell don't know why, but you mean just as much to me as Ponyboy does and I love you both the same."

Soda was starting to squirm and with him that usually meant he really needed a break, so Darry gave him one. He rested his hand on the burning behind in front of him as he continued, "It doesn't matter that you get yourself into trouble more than he does and it most definitely doesn't matter that he gets better grades. You are just as important in this family, and you are not useless. If we have to have this conversation again after today, then you'll be bringing me that hairbrush that you hate so much. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes!" Soda squeaked, nodding frantically. Darry had stopped spanking but the fire had hardly dulled and the not-so-comforting weight of Darry's hand on his behind really wasn't helping, "N-No brush! I'm sorry!"

Darry could tell that his brother was sincere, which meant they were just about done. All that was left was Soda's least favorite part, "Good," he replied, tightening his grip on his brother, "Now, we're almost done. Stay still."

Soda whimpered pathetically as he nodded, knowing what was coming. Even though he expected it, he still let out a quite embarrassing squeal when Darry started to smack his thighs, unintentionally kicking his feet out a couple of times.

Darry didn't let this stop him, though, continuing to bust his brother's butt (well, thighs) the same way he had been the entire time. The sound of his brother's cries cranked up as did his squirming, and it was clear that he was now very, very ready for it to be over.

Darry didn't stop until he heard a sudden pause in Soda's wailing, a sharp inhale, and then a low, muffled sob. It was followed by another, and then another, and Darry knew he'd gotten the message through to his brother just fine.

He slowed down, returning his swats back to his brother's butt before coming to complete stop. Soda was sobbing miserably into the pillow, lying limp over his brother's lap. Usually, Soda preferred to calm himself down before he accepted any comfort. This time, though, Darry had the slightest inkling that wouldn't be the case.

Still, he didn't push immediately but instead settled for gently rubbing and scratching his brother's back. If anything would help him calm down, it would be that. When a minute or so passed, though, and Soda didn't make a move to get up or slow his crying down at all, Darry decided he probably needed some prompting.

"C'mon, kiddo," he said quietly, patting his back to make sure he had his attention, "You can relax now; we're done. Do you want to sit up?"

There was a pause in which Darry could only assume that his brother was processing his words. After that, he got a jerky nod and what sounded like Soda saying, "Yes, please."

"Okay," Darry replied softly, sliding a hand under him to help him up, "C'mon, I got you."

He was doing his best to be encouraging, but Sodapop was too busy using his hands to cover his face to push himself up. Fortunately, Darry didn't mind doing all of the work and succeeded in getting him up off of his lap and in a kneeling position. It didn't last long, though, because almost as soon as he was upright, Soda fell against his chest.

Despite his obvious surprise, Darry hugged his brother with no hesitation. He couldn't remember the last time Soda had cried into his chest so openly but he knew it had definitely been awhile. Even though he was fairly sure his brother was just crying out his frustrations, it was hard not to worry as hard as he was still crying.

"It's okay, buddy," Darry comforted, burying one hand in his brother's hair, "We're done, now. You can stop crying."

Soda shook his head, clinging on to Darry, "You're still m-mad," he got out between sobs, turning his head ever so slightly so his words weren't muffled.

"No," Darry denied almost immediately, furrowing his eyebrows, "No, I'm not, Sodapop. I'm not still mad at you. As a matter of fact, I was _never_ mad at you."

Soda took a deep, hitching breath before he leaned back a little, "You…You weren't?" he asked quietly, peaking up at his brother through wet, red-rimmed eyes.

"No, Soda. I wasn't," Darry told him, giving him an odd look. In most ways, he was acting just like Ponyboy, and that was a little worrisome, "I didn't spank you because I was mad. I spanked you because you started talking down on yourself again and I don't want you doing that. It had nothing to do with me being angry with you, dudda."

There was a beat of silence while Soda processed that, and it seemed like he was about to reply. Before he could, another sob racked his body so he chose to bury his face back into Darry's chest, instead.

Darry wanted an answer, but he decided to focus solely on getting his brother to calm down before he pushed for any further conversation. It's not like they were on any kind of time limit, but he noted that it wouldn't be too long before Ponyboy's anxiety got the best of him and he wanted to check on his brother. It usually didn't take so long for Soda's spankings.

Cradling his head, shushing him, and accepting that Soda wouldn't be done until he was ready to be, Darry let his baby brother cry all of his pent-up frustrations out into his chest. It took a couple of minutes before his sobs diminished and another couple for his tears to come to a complete stop. Darry didn't rush him, though, rubbing his back and murmuring sweet nothings to him. Soda never turned his head out of Darry's chest the whole way through so he tried to ignore the way his now soaking wet shirt was sticking to his chest.

After a couple of quiet moments, Soda slowly turned his head out of Darry's chest. His face was red, wet, and a little puffy but he looked much more relaxed than he had all day. He crawled off of his spot on Darry's leg, opting to curl up against his side, instead, and rest his face on a dry part of his brother's shirt.

Darry let him get situated before he wrapped an around on his shoulders, pulling him closer and kissing the top of his head, "You feeling better, kiddo?"

He let out a shaky breath as he shrugged, subconsciously leaning into his brother, "I can't do nothing right," he said softly after a moment, eyes focusing on his hands that were resting on Darry's thigh.

"Seriously, Sodapop?" Darry said in disbelief, frowning, "Didn't I just spank you for doing that?"

"Yes," Soda admitted grumpily after he sighed, grimacing, "I'm just sayin'. I was so close to being ungrounded."

Darry sighed as he remembered that his little brother was _finally_ almost done with that punishment. He'd successfully made it six entire days without getting into any major trouble (the longest he'd ever made it before that was three) and was due to be ungrounded that night. Of course, that was before they ran into problems at the store. Soda had been trying very hard, Darry was sure of it, and he was quite proud of him. He really, really didn't have the heart to take that away from him just because of one slightly bad day, especially since Darry knew that there were plenty of underlying causes that caused him to behave the way he did.

"Sodapop," Darry started, waiting for Soda to look up at him before he continued, "If I let you out of your grounding, are you going to go back to being a brat and acting like you hate me?"

"I don't hate you," Soda replied without any hesitation, frowning up at him. The fact that Darry said that seemed almost appalling to him.

"I know you don't hate me, Sodapop," Darry assured him gently, biting back a smile, "But more often than not, you act like you do. How do you think that makes me feel?"

When both Soda's face and his gaze fell, Darry sighed. He really wasn't trying to make him feel bad, but it was something he needed to hear. When he didn't get a reply, he continued.

"You know, I like the Sodapop I've had this week," Darry told him gently, squeezing him a little bit, "I've missed him, and I think he's much better than the Soda who treats everybody like shit all the time. All I'm asking you is if that Sodapop will be back the second you're ungrounded."

Soda stayed quiet for nearly a minute, playing with the hem of Darry's shirt instead of his own. He was obviously thinking over what his brother had said. To most people, it would have been a no-brainer, but Darry knew his brother well enough to know that it wasn't that easy for him.

"I'm sorry I'm always like that," he said after he'd thought it over, and Darry was far from happy to hear that he sounded miserably again, "I just…I don't do it on purpose. I don't mean to be like that, mostly, Dar. I swear I don't."

Darry didn't doubt that at all. Sodapop had told him time and time again that he hardly ever was rude or mean on purpose. He'd also told him on numerous occasions that most of the time when he was in a bad mood, he really didn't know why. He just was, and the only way he knew how to deal with it was to take it out on everyone else. That had a lot to do with why Darry was so patient with him and gave him so many chances and it also had a lot to do with why he always felt so bad for punishing him.

"Maybe we could talk to Dr. Riley, hm?" Darry offered gently, referring to who was once their mom's psychiatrist. He'd been trying to get his brother to agree to an appointment with her for close to a year by then, but he wasn't making much progress, "We could see what would help."

As usual, Soda shook his head immediately, "I don't need to see her," he grumbled, already becoming defensive, "There's nothing wrong with me."

"I'm not saying there is," Darry replied gently, squeezing his brother's shoulder again, "But something definitely isn't right, Soda, and you know it. You're almost always in a bad mood for no reason at all. You're either sleeping too much or you aren't sleeping at all. I can't get you to focus to save my life. That's more than you just being a teenager; it's a problem."

It was quite clear that Soda wasn't happy to be hearing any of that, but he obviously knew that it was true. Still, he continued to pick at Darry's shirt instead of reply, so the elder of the two decided to push.

"I know you don't like being mad all the time," Darry said gently, moving his hand from his brother's shoulder to the top of his head, "You try and act all hard but I see right through that, kid. You don't want to always be in such a bad mood, you don't want to take it out on everyone else, and you definitely don't want to get spanked because of that. The only way we can try and fix that is if we talk to someone who can figure out what's going on in that head of yours."

Soda was pouting again, but Darry could tell that he was starting to get through to him. He really didn't want to force him to do something that he didn't want to do, but Darry knew how much it would help in the long run. Besides, he was pretty damn sure that Sodapop knew he wouldn't make him do anything unless he was sure it was for the best.

"I'll think about it," Soda grumbled, glaring at his lap, "But it's stupid."

Darry noted his brother's bad attitude slowly slipping back into his tone, but he knew the perfect way to get rid of it. With a dramatic sigh, he shrugged, "Well, I _was_ going to unground you, but if you want to be a brat about it…"

Soda's face lit up at the words, and Darry couldn't help but smile when his brother grinned and wrapped his arms around his neck, squeezing tightly.

"I'm not gonna be a brat!" Soda promised, still hugging his brother, "Thank you so much, Dar! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise to be good!"

"Oh, I'm sure you do," Darry chuckled as his brother let go of him, gently pushing him back before he could accidentally strangle him. He understood his excitement – Soda hadn't seen his phone, laptop, or his PlayStation all summer. Darry was surprised he hadn't gone stir crazy, yet, "But you better remember how quickly everything can get taken back. Understood?"

Sodapop nodded gleefully, still grinning, "Understood. Completely and 100% understood, Darry."

It's not that he didn't believe his brother, but he still wanted to be sure before he handed everything back. Before he could say anything else, though, he heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs. He smiled to himself as he waited, figuring their brother would have come to make sure everything was alright sooner than later. It had been nearly an hour by then. He still hadn't gotten to talk about Soda about school, which was the original point of the entire conversation, but since Soda seemed to be in a much better mood, he decided it could wait for a while.

"It's okay, Pony," Darry called over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps pause, "You can come down."

The confirmation was obviously all he was waiting for because he descended the last of the stairs quickly, stepping into the living room with a worried expression. Darry lifted the arm that Soda wasn't under as he stepped in front of the couch, beckoning Pony to sit beside them. He did, of course, sliding beside his brothers with ease.

"What's up, kid?" Darry asked him, furrowing his eyebrows, "You alright?"

He nodded, relaxing into Darry's side, "I was just making sure you didn't kill him, I guess."

Chuckling fondly, he kissed the top of Ponyboy's head, "Nope. We're just fine."

"Be careful," Soda, who hadn't moved from his spot under Darry's other arm warned, "He's being mushy."

That got a laugh out of Ponyboy, but Darry just rolled his eyes, "I am not," he denied, smiling despite himself, "Even if I was, Pony likes mushy."

"I do not!" Pony grumbled, faking offense even as he curled against Darry, "I just let you do it, anyway."

Ponyboy's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes landed on Soda's, frowning ever so slightly. Despite the fact that nothing was said, Sodapop nodded at his brother ever so slightly, giving him a small smile. That interaction seemed to have been enough for Pony after that because he relaxed again. Darry was slightly confused, but he quickly realized what he'd just witnessed was Pony asking Soda if he was okay, and then Soda answering him. He couldn't help but be glad that his boys' relationship was good enough that they didn't even need words to check up on each other.

Deciding not to go any further with that conversation, Darry patted both of his brother's shoulders to get their attention, "Alright, boys. Who's hungry?"

It was already after six, so of course, they both were by then. They both sat up at that, elated at the idea of food.

"I am!" Soda said, smiling again, "Can we go out? I want Buffalo Wild Wings."

"Ooh! Me too!" Ponyboy agreed, nudging Darry from the other side, "Can we, Dar? Please?"

They'd already been out twice that week and Darry really didn't want to spend any extra money, especially since there was food in the kitchen. Unfortunately, though, both of his boys were giving him their world-famous puppy dog eyes and he didn't have the heart to tell them no. So, he promised himself that he'd cook for the next couple of days and sent both of his brothers upstairs to get ready, feeling like the pushover he was.

* * *

 **I'm baaaaaccckkkk.**

 **I know I said it would only be a month and I'm about a week over that, so I'm sorry about that, but I really had to get over this writer's block. Fortunately, I've made some really good progress!**

 **I hope you guys like this chapter and I hope to have Use Your Head updated within a week or two! As usual, please leave comments with your feedback! Thanks!**


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